gallops at dawn
across a church meadow
in the first leg
of a worn commute.
My foot presses the brake
in anticipation of our
crossing trajectories
but her dash ends
at the massive stalk of broccoli
dying in the grass.
The eager deer partakes
of the tree's tender buds
without having to stretch her neck
or stand on her hind legs.
As we pile into the work van
half an hour later
the rest of the guys
start their daily ribbing
but my mind's not ready
to leave the day's first scene
yet.
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